


Apnoea

by xirucem



Category: Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:41:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xirucem/pseuds/xirucem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brief snippets, what-ifs, why-nots, and prayers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apnoea

Raindrops chase each other down the windows at a steady pace as the light grows dim, grey and cold outside in the misty London streets, a contrast to the warmth in the small hotel room. Robert had wanted something a little grander- but it was all Rufus could afford at the moment, since he was still looking for a job. Both were quiet, Rufus’ breath soft against the back of Robert’s neck as they watched the rain, tangled together and warm on top of the bed, sheets kicked to the floor.

“It’s a shame there’s clouds out. No stargazing tonight,” Rufus said, voice a warm murmur against a bare shoulder.

“There’s always clouds in London,” Robert said with a shake of his head. 

“Less in the summer. A bit,” Rufus shrugged and kissed along that shoulder. Robert rolled over and buried his face in the pillows, Rufus’ eyes watching his chest rise and fall with a sigh. The physicist started at his shoulders and placed soft, careful little kiss down his spine, eventually arriving at the comet-shaped birthmark in the curve of his lower back. He placed a soft kiss there too, and Robert gave a small shiver. He sat up, resting on his elbows and brushed his fingers across the spot and just looked over his lover’s slender, pale back, enjoying the quiet moment.

Robert turned his head, glancing at Sixsmith, his hazel eyes a little softer perhaps than usual. His own mind was far away now, involved in the staccato rain falling at a brisk, adante tempo, fingers tapping at the pillow, eyes closing again. It was perhaps a little strange to most how involved he was with his music, but Sixsmith never minded. He sighed softly again as he felt the warm press of lips against his skin once more, and his hand found the other’s. 

It wouldn’t be long before he started his journey, and who knew the next time they might have moments like this after he left. But he would make a name for himself and damn the rest. Perhaps they would meet again. He was sure it wouldn’t take too long. He ran his long fingers across Rufus’ hand, calloused from handling pencils and pens and scientific instruments, his own not quite as much. His fingers were a little rough from piano, index finger and thumb from pens working on notation- but Sixsmith’s hands were warm and comforting. Rufus laced his fingers with Robert’s, and kissed the comet-shaped birthmark again.

Somehow, the gesture was incredibly intimate for reasons neither of them quite grasped, but they were quiet as the shadows grew in their little hotel room.


End file.
